


three

by Lavendelshampoo



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: 5+1 Things, Anal Sex, Eventual Smut, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Hand Jobs, Light Jealousy, M/M, Oikawa is barely even there, pining Ushijima (or so it seems), small sidedish of MatsuHana if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:54:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25745440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lavendelshampoo/pseuds/Lavendelshampoo
Summary: It’s in their matches against Seijoh that Tendou is at his best and does his worst. They’re good, he’ll give them that, almost dangerous, but that’s not what fires him up. A different kind of suspense simmers in the air, so tense it’s almost palpable and something about his captain staring at Oikawa doesn’t sit well with him.or: friends with benefits, misunderstandings and a realization
Relationships: Tendou Satori/Ushijima Wakatoshi
Comments: 26
Kudos: 394
Collections: My beloved stories





	three

**Author's Note:**

> This is all pengu‘s fault for mentioning Ushiwaka pining for Oikawa and Tendou helping him cope with it in a ‚special’ way. I had a really hard time writing this because I just can’t see them only as friends with benefits, so I tried to figure out a way that makes it plausible for me. I hope it works for you too. 
> 
> Also, my biggest thanks @mellojello999, I truly couldn't have done it without you. <3 Thank you so much for reading, helping me and motivating me.

It’s in their matches against Seijoh that Tendou is at his best and does his worst. _They’re good_ , he’ll give them that, _almost dangerous_ , but that’s not what fires him up. A different kind of suspense simmers in the air, so tense it’s almost palpable.

„You were in good form today“, Wakatoshi tells him afterwards but his eyes follow their opponents’ setter leaving the court and while Satori takes pride in the compliment, something about his captain staring at Oikawa doesn’t sit well with him.

_ _ _

Contrary to what everyone believed at first, Wakatoshi is not averse to touch. He seldom initiates it, but he doesn’t appear to be bothered by it either. There is no avoiding it on the court anyways, from accidental bumps to high fives and friendly slaps on the back. However, his tolerance extends to everyday situations - and less ordinary situation, as Satori soon finds out.

It first occurs to him the time he jokingly offers a massage to Wakatoshi - like he does all the time with their teammates - and Wakatoshi doesn’t refuse. Instead he looks genuinely puzzled when he doesn’t actually get one. (He does get one, eventually. Just not this time. Satori has to wrap his head around that possibility first, unsure what do with it. This is Wakatoshi after all and he doesn’t want to make him uncomfortable, not even accidentally.)

Then there is the time they do math homework late at night after practice and he is so tired that he can barely keep his eyes open, so leans his head against Wakatoshi’s shoulder and rests for a moment. He braces himself for rejection when his weary mind catches up with his actions, but Wakatoshi just tells him that he should sit on his right-hand side if he wants to do that, so their arms don’t bump all the time while writing.

There is also the time when Wakatoshi helps him stretch and he just gives up midway, to drained from their match to do it right, so he lets his legs drop on either side of his friend. He doesn’t notice the compromising position until he catches the distraught look on Semi’s face. It gets worse when Wakatoshi observes in his matter-of-fact way that he is _very flexible._

And then there is the time he _did_ give that massage and Wakatoshi literally melted under his touch, so he offered to do it again. And again. He enjoys being able to help his friend unwind and honestly, it’s no big sacrifice to touch those taunt muscles. _It’s no big deal_ , he tells himself. And it isn’t, until things unexpectedly get out of hand.

_ _ _

„He should have come to Shiratorizawa.“

They’re on the bus-ride back to school after one of their matches, when Wakatoshi brings it up the first time. It’s strange, Satori will think later, that he knows immediately whom this is about.

„I‘m sure glad he didn’t“, he hears himself snort before his brain kicks in and he can stop himself. He shoots a quick glance over his shoulder, but no one is listening to them, their teammates are all exhausted from the match and either sleeping or listening to music.

„I mean, why would‘cha say that?“, he adds quickly, slipping into a teasing tone to cloak his first response in harmless banter. „Our setters might get the wrong idea, y’know, if their ace fantasizes about getting tosses from someone else.“

It’s not like he hasn’t noticed in the few matches they have had against Seijoh, the way Wakatoshi looks at Oikawa. He wouldn’t exactly call it adoration, but it’s close. There is some kind of fervent anticipation of the setters moves, a passionate challenge uttered without words, a strange gratification when the other manages to wrest a point from them.

„He wastes his potential,“ Wakatoshi states as a simple fact. „He should have set for me. We would have been an excellent team.“ He doesn’t know why, but hearing those words makes his heart clench differently. For once, he doesn’t respond and turns to look out the window. „It is unfortunate that he chose the wrong path“, Wakatoshi adds and Satori chooses not to recognize the tint of regret in his voice.

_Guess he would rather play with his friends than with you._ The thought comes completely unbidden and hits him like a punch to the gut. He doesn’t want to think like that, let alone voice any of it. A long-abandoned darkness is hiding in these words, slowly spreading out and chilling him to the core. He knows it’s not like this, but the thought hurts nonetheless and makes him exhale slowly through his nose, lips pressed into a thin line. He can feel Wakatoshi’s gaze lingering on him, so he fakes a curious expression and turns around, fingers fiddling with the case of his mobile, prying it open, clamping it shut. Open. Shut.

„He seemed... extremely mad at you“, he puts it carefully, maintaining a befuddled expression as he meets Wakatoshi’s eyes. Open. Shut.

„Because I‘m strong and we won.“ The answer is matter of fact and he can’t find even the slightest hint of concern in those eyes, only calm conviction.

That can’t be all there is to it, Satori thinks and shudders inwardly, as Wakatoshi places a hand on top of his to stop him from fidgeting with his phone.

_ _ _ 

It happens the first time after a lost practice match against college students.

They weren’t in their best form, which means extra training, so when they’re finally done, everyone is utterly exhausted. Still, Satori watches Wakatoshi stay behind as they drag themselves into the locker room to shower and change. There is a restless energy to his movements and a hunger in his eyes. He had tried something new with his serves, but it didn’t work out.

Satori sighs, turns around and offers to practice some more with him. For the next half of an hour, the smack of the ball against their palms and against the floor is the only sound filling the air. He’s drained and too worn out to pay much attention to anything, but he will never tire of watching his ace. Seeing that perfect form in the air eases the heavy feeling in his legs and makes him pick up the ball once more. 

He notices the tension in Wakatoshi’s shoulders and the strain on his face, when they finally call it a day and head over to their rooms, having decided to shower there and close the gym for the night. It’s clear that his friend is vexed by how it’s not going the way he wanted, so he does what he always does and offers a massage after a nice hot shower.

Wakatoshi agrees. Satori finds his way to his room soon after showering and changing into a new pair of sweatpants and a cozy sweater. They planned on spending time together anyway, as Reon went home for the weekend. His limbs still feel heavy from the physical exertion of the day, but the shower has had a revitalizing effect and there is no denying that he likes to give massages.

„Heyyy~“, he singsongs as he enters without knocking and shakes his head like a dog, hair still damp from the shower. His eyes lock onto Wakatoshi sitting on his bed with his phone in his hands, shirtless, only wearing a pair of plain grey sweatpants. „Huh? Are you expecting anyone else?“, he jokes, closes the door and locks it out of habit. It’s late after all. One more look at his friend is enough to tell him, that his mood hasn’t improved much.

„C’mon, Wakatoshi, cheer up, you’ll get wrinkles and look like an old man if you frown so much“, he teases, plops down on the bed beside him and nudges him with his elbow. „Still interested? In a massage?“

„If it doesn’t bother you“, the ace answers and puts away his phone, where he had been watching some recording from an Olympics match.

Satori chuckles and shakes his head, splashing a few water droplets on his friend. „Nah, why would it bother me? Not at all. Lie down, alright? It’s easier that way.“

Wakatoshi complies and moves to lie on his stomach without hesitation. It’s not the first time they’ve done this after all. Satori rubs his hands, still warm from the shower and kneels above him, admiring the view for a moment before placing his hands down gently. They have seen each other naked in the shower countless times but it still feels different, touching without a layer of fabric between them.

He runs his hands up and down Wakatoshi’s back in firm strokes and moves his knuckles along his spine carefully, then he starts kneading on his lower back and moves upwards slowly, paying special attention to the places where he can feel the tension as hard knots under soft skin. He digs his fingers in, strong from years of blocking, pausing every now and then to rub soothing circles into the skin when Wakatoshi makes a noise of discomfort. It’s easy to get lost in the feeling of taunt muscles under his palms and he starts humming quietly, watches with fascination as color spreads on the broad expanse of his friend's shoulders under his well-practiced movements, squeeze and release, fluid strokes and circular motions. Maybe indulges a little more than he should.

„That’s it. Feel better?“, he asks when he notices that this has been taking longer than expected. It’s satisfying how soft and relaxed his friend’s muscles feel now and when he looks at his face, he notices how the frown is gone and crease between his eyebrows has been smoothed out. It makes him feel warm inside, in various ways. He shifts slightly, trying to ignore that it felt a little too nice, touching like that.

„Yes. Thank you, Satori“, Wakatoshi answers, deep voice rumbling low in his chest. The sound of his given name in this voice sends shivers down his spine. „I did not want to overburden you.“

„Nah, it’s fine. I could do this all night.“ He runs his hands down Wakatoshi’s back once more but stops when notices how that sounds and laughs quietly. „Sorry. That came out wrong.“ Still, he can’t find it in himself to move away, not when Wakatoshi’s skin is so hot under his fingers and part of his mind marvels at the contrast in their skin tones.

„Did it?“

His heart stops a beat when Wakatoshi turns his head farther to look at him. Satori swallows at the intensity of his gaze and wills his brain to function, fingers tingling where they still rest on the naked skin of Wakatoshi’s lower back. _Am I reading this wrong?_

„Yeah?“, he asks softly, rhetorically and trails his fingertips back up Wakatoshi’s sides, unable to look away from the scorching look in his eyes. He stifles a surprised yelp when his friend suddenly turns around under him so that he’s practically sitting in his lap - and it becomes clear that he’s not the only one excited here. It’s the way Wakatoshi looks at him, nervous yet unashamed, that makes him bold.

„Want me to help you out some more?“

He regrets it the moment it leaves his lips and grimaces, holding back a nervous chuckle. He can still play it off as a joke, right? _Right?_ A tinge of red appears on Wakatoshi’s ears but there is an earnest look in his eyes, a strange trust that makes Satori shiver.

„If you want to.“

He cringes inwardly because now he is the one to decide - but it was kind of an invitation. It would probably be stranger if he weren’t reluctant. This could change a lot. But something in Wakatoshi’s gaze tells him it won’t, and no one needs to know, anyway. The temptation is right there, hot skin and taunt muscles under his hands, the telling bulge close to his fingertips - and he’s curious.

„Yeah I want to.“

He slides back a little, takes a deep breath and keeps his eyes locked with Wakatoshi’s, while his hands slide lower and pull down the waistband of his sweatpants.

_ _ _

He tells himself it was a one-time thing. They don’t talk about it. There is no need to talk, but then it happens again. It’s awkward and unexpected but at the same time exhilarating and somehow just _nice_. It happens after a long weekend training session, where they watched and analyzed some scenes from a record of their Seijoh match and practiced what they had learned from it afterwards. Satori offers to take over cleaning duty for their first years as they have a big test coming up and Shirabu agreed to tutor them. Of course, their captain agrees to help and joins him.

Satori hums and chats to fill the silence and to distract himself from how drained he feels while they work together quickly. Wakatoshi is even more quiet than usual, but he doesn’t think much of it, it was a long day after all. When he brings the ball cart to the equipment room, where his ace puts the net away, he flops down on a pile of mats, stretches and runs his fingers through his sweaty hair. „Carry me to the shower, please?“

He almost expects Wakatoshi to go through with it when he hears him come closer, but the other sits down next to him instead, dipping the mats slightly with his weight.

„You scored us 15 points in that match.“

Satori perks up at the unexpected compliment, a gleeful grin spreading on his face. „Are you praising me?“

„It’s well deserved.“

A giddy feeling builds inside of him at those words and his grin grows even wider. Praise from their coach is rare and nice, but praise from his ace just hits differently. Giving in to an impulse, he turns to the side, wraps his arms around Wakatoshi’s middle and hugs him. „Thanks, ‘toshi“, he mumbles and nuzzles his face into his side. The fabric of his shirt is damp with sweat, but he doesn’t mind.

It takes a moment, then Wakatoshi pats his shoulder awkwardly and runs his fingers through his hair almost accidentally when he withdraws his hand. Satori shudders inwardly and sits up, leans against his friend's side and props his chin up on his shoulder to look at him, a genuine smile on his lips. „Y‘know, I really appreciate it. When you’re satisfied… with my blocking.“

Maybe his phrasing was less than perfect, because Wakatoshi scrunches up his eyebrows and a faint blush creeps up his neck without reaching his face. Satori blinks, lets his gaze trail over him and stills, when he notices the slight tent in his captain’s pants. He blinks again. Oh. _Oh._

He lets out a shallow breath, suddenly hyperaware of their close proximity and ponders whether he should say something. It’s not like it’s the first time, right? It happens sometimes, after training. No big deal.

„Hey“, he says quietly and can’t help remembering the last _incident_. It’s still quite vivid in his memory. „No need to be embarrassed.“ He looks up and places one hand on Wakatoshi’s thigh, just in between friendly and indecent. Watches him closely, the way his posture grows rigid for a moment, the way his chest moves with a deep breath, the way his shoulders relax and drop slightly.

„No one’s here anymore, right?“, he asks, voice silky and smooth and moves his hand an inch higher, fingers trailing the inside of his friend’s strong thigh. Wakatoshi’s gaze flutters to the door and returns to him, stern, dark and intense.

„Yes.“

Satori struggles to keep the nervous excitement from his voice, as he slips a taped finger under the fabric of the white sports shorts. „Are you sure about this?“ Slowly, he trails his hand higher, notices how those strong muscles flex under his fingers.

There is no trace of hesitation in Wakatoshi’s gaze when their eyes lock and that alone is enough to make him feel hot all over.

„Yes.“

_ _ _

Whenever he mulls over what has happened, he tries not to make too much of it. They still haven’t talked about it, but there seems to be no need for it. Not when everything feels normal and at ease. There are no awkward moments, no distressing pauses in their conversations, no ambiguous touches that leave either of them embarrassed and yearning. If anything, it’s concerning how it all happened so naturally. _It should be strange_ , he thinks. It is kind of slutty behavior, _but why doesn’t it feel that way?_ He tries to imagine doing that with anyone else from the team, just to figure out what’s going on, but he can’t. _Well, Wakatoshi has always been special_ , he concludes and leaves it at that.

_ _ _

They are lying on the bed in his room when Semi is out for the night to watch some concert and it starts innocently enough. He is neglecting the newest issue of Shonen Jump in favor of staring at his friend, hypnotized by Wakatoshi’s hair. It looks so soft and fluffy, more than usual. Giving in to the urge to touch, he reaches out, runs his fingers through it and admires the cool, silky feeling. It wasn’t really meant as an invitation, but he sure doesn’t complain when Wakatoshi wraps one arm around him and brings them closer, magazines forgotten between them. Cuddling gradually turns into more and when Wakatoshi kisses him for the first time, he enjoys it almost more than the lazy hand jobs that follow.

It’s late at night, when he remembers just as he’s drifting off to sleep, that their next match will be against Seijoh.

_ _ _

He waits patiently for his chance until it presents itself in the better half of their second set. There is a bit of a chaotic play involved but it’s worth it when he manages to block a dump right in front of Oikawa. A sly grin spreads on his features as the setter stares at him through the net with fiery eyes. Drawing himself up to his full height moving like a lazy cat, he saunters even closer, makes sure to have the setter’s undivided attention before he speaks. „...it’s ‘bout time you stop staring at him.“ It drops of his smiling lips as a vicious snarl and his eyes narrow to slits, never once leaving Oikawa’s, who darts a glance over his shoulder. So, he knows whom this is about. _Thought so._ It gives him wicked satisfaction to see the realization dawn on Oikawa’s pretty face and he doesn’t care that he will feel bad for acting like that later. He cannot stand those stares.

_ _ _

„What did he say to you?“ Hanamaki asks in the changing room after the match, already dressed and looking up a new place to eat on his phone. „Tendou, I mean“, he clarifies.

Oikawa just looks at him blankly for a moment, irritated by the question. Anger and frustrated determination are seeping from him because of their loss and the questions clearly throws him off at first, but then huffs quietly, gets up and stuff his shoes into his bag. „Nothing.“

Hanamaki makes a long face as if he accidentally vacuumed a piece of a puzzle he was working on and shots a glance at his best friend, but Matsukawa just raises his eyebrows in that ‚Don’t bother‘-way of his, shrugs and walks away.

(They do find out, weeks later and never let their captain live it down.)

_ _ _

Summer break comes and goes without any _unusual occurrences_ and maybe it’s better this way. It’s not like he misses anything. He does think of those few moments from time to time, but there is no strong need for a repeat performance, so to say. It’s fine, really.

On a long weekend in the beginning of September, he is invited over to Wakatoshi’s house. No one’s home except for them - or will be, the next two days, as Wakatoshi tells him. He doesn’t think about the possible implications. Not much, anyways.

He has been there before, but the house still manages to impress him every time: traditional architecture, upscale interior, well-kept garden - forming a timeless sphere of refinement, exuding a clean simplicity. Beautiful, but a little lifeless.

They end up watching a rerun of a V.League match on TV in Wakatoshi’s room after spending most of the day in the garden. The match is over, but some interviews with the players are still on and Satori’s comments are becoming fewer and less enthusiastic, mostly a sleepy mumble by now.

„Satori. You’re falling asleep“, Wakatoshi tells him and gently removes him from his shoulder. „I will get the futon ready for you.“

He yawns, blinks and lets his head fall back against the footrest of the bed. After he’d convinced Wakatoshi to let him stir up some popcorn, they ended up sitting on the floor to keep the bed crumb-free. „Why?“, he asks with glassy, innocent eyes and a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. „Your bed looks big enough.“ It’s intended as a joke, but when he meets Wakatoshi’s eyes, he notices that he might need to clarify that.

„We can share it, if you want to“, his friend offers without fail.

„I was joking, ‘toshi. Don’t feel pressured.“

„I don’t.“

His tired brain isn’t prepared for the sincerity in that voice or for the way it leaves goosebumps on his skin. „Alright, bed it is then“, he agrees after a small pause, feeling giddy inside and lets his friend help him up.

_ _ _

Despite dozing off during the interviews, he can’t fall asleep, so he listens to the sounds of the house. It’s quiet, very quiet, compared to school where there is always someone walking around, sneaking out, getting snacks or playing music a little too loud. He’s done all that, of course. After a while, gentle rain sets in. He listens to the tapping sound against the roof, feels the fresh gust of air coming in through the slightly open window, smells the early autumn scent of damp grass and wet leaves on muddy ground. It’s cozy and it eases away the irrational, nervous energy he suddenly was feeling when they lay down next to each other in the dark.

A blissful sigh leaves his lips - and Wakatoshi turns around, clearly just as unable to go to sleep as he is. „Can’t sleep?“, he asks anyway, whispering not to disturb the rain. Wakatoshi doesn’t answer him, just lifts his blanket and looks at him. Even in the dark, his eyes hold more meaning than Satori can possibly discern at the moment, but mostly, an offering.

Taking a deep breath, he slides under the covers and immerses himself in the heat emanating from his friend’s body. A strong arm pulls him closer, skin touches skin, legs tangle and when the rustling sounds of fabric die down, the tapping rhythm of the rain matches the sound of his pulse in his ears.

He buries his face in the crook of Wakatoshi’s neck and breathes, fills his lungs with his scent and holds the air for a moment, exhales with a shiver when warm lips touch his jaw. He dips his head back just a little, to catch those lips with his own, closes his eyes and basks in the feeling of soft mouths moving against each other, gentle dips of tongue and playful nips. He doesn’t even notice how it gradually turns into more, too caught up in the cozy feeling, the warmth, the closeness, amplified by the dark and the rain, cutting them off from the rest of the world. He doesn’t even notice, until he has his hands under his best friend's shirt and Wakatoshi rubs up against him, kisses turning urgent, low moans and gasps tuning out the sound of the rain. 

Nothing is different the next morning. Wakatoshi goes on his early morning run while he lazes about in bed, watching cartoons and again, there is no awkward moment waking up, no need to talk things out. Still, after a while, the quiet house gets him thinking, how easy it is to slip from friends to lovers and lovers to friends. It can’t be what Wakatoshi really wants. It’s definitely not what he deserves.

_ _ _

In hindsight, the thought was probably planted in his brain since their talk about _him o_ n the bus, but now it grows steadily and spreads its roots, infesting his memories, forcing him to reconsider. He has been thinking about it hard, has been trying to put the clues together, all the time shying away from the complete picture that is gradually forming.

He doesn’t mind whatever it is that they have. Or don’t have, most of the time. Nothing has changed in their friendship and the awkward moments he’s been waiting for never come. And then there is this thought, refusing to vanish: It can’t be pure coincidence that all their _encounters_ have somehow happened in the periphery of their Seijoh matches, can it? Plus, what Wakatoshi has said about Oikawa. _He should have come to Shiratorizawa. He should have set for me. We would have been an excellent team._

It makes sense in a way: Wakatoshi values power and skill over everything. Focused power and honed skill are as impressive as they are attractive - and there is no denying that Oikawa has plenty of both. Yet thinking about it for too long leaves him with a hollow feeling and while he finds that he really doesn’t mind helping his friend blow off steam (even if he fancies someone else), the point is, Wakatoshi deserves more than that.

He has tried to weigh the chances. Oikawa is hard to read, but it’s obvious that he nurtures an unhealthy fixation on Wakatoshi. Sure, it doesn’t have to mean anything, yet there is only one way to find out and high school won’t last forever, they’re in their last year.

He brings himself to address it during one of their homework sessions in Wakatoshi’s room. The chemical equations in his notebook refuse to make sense and his concentration keeps on slipping from him.

„You know…“, he starts a little unsure and moves to wrap his arms around his knees, hiding his fidgeting hands in the too long sleeves of his oversized sweater. „You should just ask him out already. Oikawa.“ He hides the lower half of his face behind his legs, peeking at Wakatoshi over his keens and watches his reaction closely. However, there is not much of a reaction.

„For what?“

He sighs silently and wishes for the first time in ages, that his friend were a little less oblivious sometimes, but clarifies nonetheless: „A date.“ The word leaves a bitter taste on his tongue and he wrinkles his nose, rocking back and forth on the bed to get rid of the nervousness that is slowly seeping into his composure. Wakatoshi’s hand slips on the paper from the sudden movement of the mattress and a small crease appears between his eyebrows, then he puts the pencil down and looks up.

„Why?“

Satori grimaces and shrugs without meaning to, then he drops his knees to the sides to sit in a cross-legged position and straightens up a bit. „It’s better to know, right? You‘ll know where you’re at“, he tries to explain and gestures wildly with his sleeves, before settling on folding his hands in his lap. „It has to be better than this.“

The crease between Wakatoshi’s brows deepens and he closes his book. „Better than this?“

„I’m not complaining“, Satori slips in quickly, looking at him with wide and honest eyes, hoping to be understood. „But… you said it yourself, you’d be a good match.“ There is a faint sting to those words, but he smiles it away. „Look at you, you’re boyfriend material. No one’s gonna date you as long as you fool around with your best friend.“ It hurts, the kind of dull pain that gets worse with time, but honesty has to hurt a bit, he supposes. He searches for understanding in his friend’s deep green eyes and for once, he cannot make any sense of what he sees in them. Wakatoshi blinks, straightens and shuts him out. A sharp pain mixes with the dull one from before and his smile falters, softens. „Just… don’t let him hurt you“, he adds quietly, fiddling with a loose thread on his left sleeve. „It probably won’t work out, but you deserve a chance. You deserve to know.“

„Thank you for your advice“, Wakatoshi answers after a few stretched out seconds, sounding dismissive and opens his book again, lips pressed into a thin line. Satori knows he shouldn’t meddle with other’s affairs, but best friends need to help each other out, right? Even if it’s not what you want to happen. Right?

_ _ _

A strange distance between them arises from that conversation. It’s not obvious enough that the team catches on (although they might, considering the way Semi watches him), but it’s there and it’s feeling more suffocating with every day that passes. He doesn’t blame Wakatoshi, not when he was the intrusive one. He knows he has to apologize and soon. Interhigh Qualifiers are approaching and they can’t have this atmosphere in the team - he can’t have this atmosphere with his best friend.

He musters up the courage to go to Wakatoshi’s room late on a Friday evening and knocks. If Reon suspected anything when he asked him whether he would be there, he hasn’t said anything and he’s thankful for that. It has only been a little more than a week, but a week is plenty of time to feel miserable. He can deal with a lot, but he can’t deal with this. An antsy feeling creeps over him, when he hears heavy steps approaching and the door is opened.

„Hey~ Wakatoshi“, he greets tentatively, testing the waters and shifts his weigh from one foot to the other. „Can I come in?“

His ace doesn’t answer, but moves a little to the side, so Satori slips into the room and takes a calming breath while the other closes the door behind him. He tries to come up with what to say first, but all the heartfelt words of apology leave him when strong hands unexpectedly circle his waist, turn him around and pull him close. A surprised sound leaves his lips, but he doesn’t resist, leans into the contact when he’s pulled against Wakatoshi’s broad chest.

„Is this alright?“ The soft rumble next to his ear washes over him like a warm summer ocean wave. Reluctantly, he moves back a little to look up into Wakatoshi’s eyes, baffled by the progression of events. This is not what he expected, not in the least.

„Yeah“, he answers, unable to hide how much he’s missed this in his voice. „Listen-“, he starts but cuts himself off with a soft gasp when Wakatoshi gently pushes him back against the door. „I meant to apol-“, he manages to get out, before his lips are claimed in a chaste kiss. It doesn’t last long, but it’s enough to make is knees go weak. He still wants to apologize, but he can’t bring himself to say anything when they part and Wakatoshi looks at him, looks into him, like he’s searching for something. There is an uncertainty in his eyes that makes Satori wince.

„It’s alright. More than alright“, he confirms once more, softly and places one hand in Wakatoshi’s neck, threads his fingers through his hair, watches with fascination as the uncertainty in those dark eyes dwindles down and is replaced by a strange look that scares him and leaves him longing for more. Yielding to the temptation, he pulls his friend closer and kisses him again, long, deep and sincere. Maybe, he thinks, not all apologies need to be expressed with words.

They end up on the bed some time later, touching, trading kisses, melting into each other. Not much else happens that night, but somehow it feels more intimate all that has happened before.

_ _ _

It’s the 27th of October, Seijoh has just lost to Karasuno and Wakatoshi is gone. Semi says he probably went after Oikawa, so Satori doesn’t comment on it anymore, doesn’t go looking for him and follows his teammate outside instead.

Most members of Seijoh’s team are waiting near their bus, but he doesn’t pay them much attention. Their long-time rivals are probably the last people on earth they want to see right now anyway. Or so he thinks, until one of their third-years calls out to him when they pass him.

„Huh?“ He twists around and looks at the tall, dark-haired middle blocker standing next to his friend, who’s sporting an expression of eternal boredom. „Are you talkin’ to me?“ _Matsukawa_ , he remembers. They have been up against each other quite a lot in past matches. It feels a bit nostalgic, to think about it, as it won’t be happening again.

„You’re a pain in the ass“, the other tells him and buries his hands in the pockets of his white and teal jacket. „But your guesses only work on our side of the net, huh?“

„…eh?“ He cocks his head to the side, raising his eyebrows in confusion and throws a glance at Semi, who has also stopped but only shrugs in his typical ‚How the hell should I know?‘-way.

„Just sayin’…“, Seijoh’s middle blocker drawls on and his genuine expression is puzzling Satori all the more. „Looks like there’s something you haven’t figured out yet.“

„That’s rich, coming from you“, his bored friend snorts and moves a half-step to the side, avoiding a lazy kick, then he looks at Satori, arms crossed in front of his chest. „Seriously though, how can you not have noticed?“

„Noticed what?“

Before he can make any sense of it, Semi moves closer and pulls him away. „We appreciate your help, but it’s no use anyway with this pea brain here“, he tells the two third-years and elbows Satori, when he starts to protest. „Oww, be a little nicer to your favorite roommate, alright?“, he complains rubbing his side and wonders what the heck he should have figured out while Semi drags him along and their rivals’ voices are fading behind them.

„He‘s a cool guy, I like him.“

„I‘d like him better if they hadn’t beaten our asses all the time.“

„Salty.“

„At least I’m not pushing my shitty relationship advice on someone else.“

_ _ _

Realization is seeping in slowly, dripping like a leaky faucet when he’s left with too much time on his hands after their loss against Karasuno. Sometimes, he realizes, you spend so much time thinking about someone else that you forget to think about yourself and when you finally open up the lid to look at your feelings, it’s like staring into a deep well that has always been there, calm and mysterious, yet you have to be careful not to trip and drown in it.

_ _ _

Two weeks after losing against Karasuno, they visit the garden at Wakatoshi’s home, readying it for winter. Satori has offered his help but spends most of the afternoon sitting on the porch, watching his friend cut back hedges and milkweeds. The first frost has yet to come, but the temperatures have been steadily dropping lower. He nestles his face into the collar of his jacket, damping it with his breath and watches.

Losing to Karasuno came so suddenly, so unexpectedly that it felt like crashing into a wall at full speed. It’s still hard to wrap his head around it. Three more months of volleyball have been ripped from them. Tokyo has been ripped from them. There still is training, there still are some practice matches, but it’s not the same and their coach focusses on the players that will actually be there next time. He can’t blame him. Slowly, painfully, he’s coming around to thinking: maybe it’s not so much crashing into a wall as it is hitting the breaks the last second. Going to the Nationals would only have postponed the inevitable end. In a way it’s better like this, playing their last match here, at home.

„You sure you don’t want me to help?“, he offers once more to shake off those thoughts. „I’m good with plants.“

„I will be finished in a minute.“

„I’ll get you some water then“, he decides, jumps up and goes to the kitchen. The house is quiet, always quiet and once again, there is no one home but them. He tries not to dwell on that thought, tries not to get caught up in the memories from last time and feels the lid of the well inside him slipping.

When he comes back to the porch with a glass of water, Wakatoshi is putting away the gardening tools and gloves. Watching him, he leans against the doorframe and notices that something’s off when Wakatoshi walks over to him, moving slower than usual. There is a tension to his shoulders that wasn’t there before, and the wintery air suddenly feels colder.

„Here“, he offers him the water. Wakatoshi takes it but places it on a small garden table next to them and turns towards him with a serious expression.

„Satori, I have something to tell you.“

The crisp autumn air feels like pins in his throat when he takes a deep breath and a cold feeling floods his insides as if the well has just spilled over. He should not have waited this long. _I have something to tell you._ There is such a final sound to those words that he fears he has missed his chance. „Yeah? What’s up?“ He fakes a look of puzzled curiosity, straightening his posture. „Wanna get inside first?“ He’s only buying time and he knows it, but he doesn’t want to hear whatever follows. He’s not even sure what he is afraid of but that doesn’t change the feeling of dread nestled in his chest.

„No“, Wakatoshi answers, sounding final and Satori lets out a nervous chuckle, slips his hands into the pockets of his trainings jacket and leans back against the doorframe again. „Alright“, he says and wishes they could just skip this talk. Talking was never necessary, so why is it now? And why didn’t he try to do it first?

„I‘m proud of our team. We have excellent players“, his ace starts, all composed sincerity, and Satori wrinkles his nose in confusion. _So, this is about volleyball._ This is not what he was expecting. The cold feeling inside recedes a little.

„I always thought one needs a strong environment to flourish. Lately, I have been questioning my views“, Wakatoshi continues, speaking slowly and deliberately as if he has to try the words first on his tongue, has to get a feel for them before he lets them go. „Perhaps this environment doesn’t have to be a school, not even a whole team. Just one person can be enough.“ Satori’s shoulders sink lower with every word and he listens, really listens, forgets about his own trouble for the time being. It’s strange, to hear his friend talk this way. Losing has had a different impact on everyone, it seems.

„Are you talkin’ about Karasuno’s Number 9 and 10?“

Wakatoshi doesn’t answer him but continues as if he wasn’t interrupted.

„I am lucky. I have the school. And the team. And that one person.“

He has no response for that, can only stare at his friend with wide eyes and open mouth. He has a vague idea where this might be going, but it’s like thin ice, he doesn’t trust it.

„You are that one person, Satori.“

A tingling warmth washes over him, yet his throat feels tight and his heart clenches at those words.

„I told you…“, he replies lamely. „I won’t be playing anymore.“

„I enjoyed playing with you and watching you on court“, Wakatoshi assures him and Satori notices the faint blush creeping up the side of his neck, the way his hands open and close while his gaze is unwavering. „But that is not all we share.“

It feels like watching a puzzle come together, all the pieces slowly clicking into place, unveiling the complete picture. He thought he had it figured out but apparently, he was still missing half of it. A gust of autumn breeze hits his neck and makes him shiver, yet the warmth in his chest is slowly spreading. „When you say you enjoy watching me, you mean…?“

„Yes“, Wakatoshi concedes and averts his eyes for a heartbeat. „That, too.“

Satori flushes and laughs, feeling hot all over and bubbly inside, like he has just been handed an indecent present. So it never was about Oikawa? _There’s something you haven’t figured out yet._ He should probably thank Seijoh’s middle blocker, but he’s still not sure he’s grasping everything. It’s too much to take in and his mind is racing.

„So… this…“ He makes a vague gesture encompassing the both of them. „Do you… are we…?“

„Satori.“ Wakatoshi’s eyes fix on him again and shut him up instantly. „I apologize if I wasn’t clear in my intentions before. I should have spoken to you sooner.“ Satori braces himself at that tone for what is to come, still unsure of what to expect, too nervous to trust the hopeful spark that makes his insides flutter, his hands tremble and his cheeks heat up until their color matches his hair.

„I want you in my life, whether it’s on or off the court. As much as possible. I would very much like to continue our… relationship.“ There is an uncertainty he’s seen before hiding under the swirl of emotions in Wakatoshi’s gaze, but it’s tempered down by a stubborn determination. „You can refuse. I won’t hold it against you.“

Hearing those words makes him feel weak in the knees and he lets out a strange strangled noise. It feels as if his body moves on its own when he pushes away from the doorframe, takes two steps towards his best friend and kisses him hard for lack of words. It’s clumsy and sloppy and their noses bump a little too hard, but it’s perfect anyway.

He only breaks off the kiss to try again at a better angle, lets himself be pulled closer and melts against Wakatoshi’s muscular form. As he wraps his arms around his neck, he wonders how he could ever have been unsure of this when everything feels so familiar and right. He nibs softly at Wakatoshi’s bottom lip and gasps against his mouth when his friend's hands are suddenly under his jacket and shirt, warm despite the cold, running up his sides and back down to his hips, pulling him closer still. It’s easy to get lost in the intoxicating feeling of lips, tongue and skin, until he feels a hardness pressing against him. The sensation sends sparks down his spine and it takes all of his willpower not to rub against his best friend right then and there.

He swallows and pulls back a little, brings one hand to Wakatoshi’s chest to keep him at distance, so he can look into his eyes. „Let’s move this inside, alright?“ There is a sudden nervousness to his voice, which is laughable, because this is not the first time they’ve treaded on this territory, but it feels different this time.

„Yes“, Wakatoshi agrees but leans in and kisses him again anyway, deep and hungry and promising.

Somehow, they make it to his room and end up on the bed, jackets and shirts already discarded. It occurs to him then that he hasn’t really answered yet. Maybe the fact that they’re here now is answer enough but he wants to, no assumptions this time, so he props himself up on his elbows and looks down on his friend.

„It’s a yes, by the way, in case you were still wonderin’.“

„I suspected as much“, Wakatoshi answers with a small, honest smile.

„As if I’d ever refuse… I said you deserve a chance, didn’t I?“, Satori adds quietly, teasing with a mischievous grin that soon turns into a soft smile. „You deserve everything.“

„I don’t want everything“, Wakatoshi replies straight-faced. „I want you.“

He whines at that, drops down and hides his face, flushing profoundly. „Don’t say stuff like that.“ His brain is still trying to catch up with everything, it’s almost too good to be true, yet it feels like it was always like this, they just didn’t notice. When Wakatoshi runs his fingers through his hair, he looks back up and sees the mirthful sparkle to his eyes, the small grin in the corner of his mouth.

„Are you makin’ fun of me?“

„Yes“, he admits. „But I mean it.“

Satori hits him on the shoulder weakly and laughs shaking his head, then he straightens and sits back to look at him, a wide, sly grin forming on his lips. „Bold of you to assume you can out-embarrass me.“

„I don’t think that is a word.“ Wakatoshi runs his big hands up his thighs and there is such a humorous tone to his voice that it makes him feel all warm inside.

„Oh, ‘toshi~“, he drawls, grin widening and bows down to him, their faces close, voice dropping to a sensual purr. „You have no idea. The things I could say to you…“

„Try me.“ The challenge in his eyes feels like glimpsing into a vast sea of possibilities that makes him shudder but he’s not prepared for the giddy, happy feeling that arises from being able to fool around so easily, from seeing Wakatoshi so at ease and open. It’s rare and to think that it’s because of him does funny things to him.

„Nah. I’ll save that for some other time“, he decides, slumps back down and cuddles him, enjoys the feeling of the warm body, rests his head on his broad chest. He runs his fingers up and down Wakatoshi’s arm, following his veins, slipping to the less tanned inside, all the while listening to the steady beating heart below his ear and gets lost in the closeness for a moment. A soft tug on his hair makes him raise his head and he lets himself be pulled into a slow and deep kiss, gradually turning more heated.

Suddenly Wakatoshi flips them around and moves between his legs. An undignified sound of surprise leaves his lips and stares at him with wide eyes, then his gaze flickers to his wrists, pinned to the mattress by strong hands. _Hot._ A smoldering heat settles low in his groin and he licks his lips, looking up at his friend. „You sure know what to do to me…“, he purrs and bucks his hips, seeking contact but stills suddenly when another thought hits him: „Wait, you do know, right?“

„I have seen a video.“

„Wha-… you watched _porn_?“ He can’t help staring at his friend incredulously, who seems to be oblivious to his disconcertment.

„I think it was rather... educational.“

He is still baffled, mostly amused and slightly worried. „You shouldn’t copy everything they show there, y’know?“

„It was an educational video, I believe“, Wakatoshi corrects himself, irritated crease appearing between his brows. „It should be alright.“

„ _Oh_. Oh…“ That gives rise to a whole lot of new questions but there are more pressing matters at hand, so to speak and the heat radiating from the body above him makes it hard to think. „Nevermind then.“

He rolls his hips up, a clear indicator that his conversation is over. Wakatoshi lets go of his wrists and he immediately takes advantage of that, running his hands up his friend’s toned chest, brushing against his nipples almost accidentally, grinning when he catches the soft appreciative sigh that falls from Wakatoshi’s lips. He succumbs to another heated kiss, squirms under the hands running up his thighs and down his flat belly, setting his skin aflame like spreading wildfire. A drawn-out moan escapes him when Wakatoshi slips a thumb under the waistband of his pants and moves along from hipbone to hipbone, just below the fabric.

„Maybe we, uh, don’t“, he pants and turns his face to the side to catch his breath for a moment, shivering when Wakatoshi plants wet open-mouthed kisses on his neck instead, „don’t need that many clothes.“ The weight on top of him lifts and he takes the chance to wriggle out of his pants and briefs while Wakatoshi undresses himself. His breath catches when he looks up at him. It’s a sight he has seen many times before but now it makes his mouth go dry and his blood surge in his ears. This is what perfection looks like, but what throws him off is the intense look of hunger and adoration in Wakatoshi’s eyes as he takes him in.

„Come here“, he bids, voice hoarse, not sure how long he can bear that gaze, suddenly feeling self-conscious. As soon as his friend is close enough, he pulls him down next to himself and kisses him again, needy and impatient. He lets his hands roam freely, groans into the kiss when their hips finally touch and their erections rub against each other.

He slips a hand between their bodies, gripping their lengths with his long fingers, lazily stroking silky skin. The familiar motions calm his nerves and _fuck_ , it feels good. Wakatoshi moves further down, pressing his lips to his jaw, his neck, his throat, his collarbones, the dip in between. He feels vulnerable and sheltered at the same time, slows the movement of his hand and breathes deeply to savor the feeling, enjoy each moment to the fullest.

Then Wakatoshi takes him by the wrist and pulls his hand away, moves to get something from the drawer of his nightstand. Satori mewls at the loss of contact and presses his lower half into the sheets instinctively, searching for friction. When he peeks over there, he sees the suspected bottle of lube in Wakatoshi’s hands. He wonders briefly whether it has always been there or if his friend is more well prepared than he gives him credit, but there is no time to ponder it when Wakatoshi lies down next to him again and looks him in the eye. „Satori. Do you want this?“

In a rush, his nerves are back, he feels jittery but also excited and he yearns for more. Just the thought is enough to send a wave of pleasure coiling low. „Yeah“, he breathes and gives a little nod. He has done this to himself before, but the thought of Wakatoshi touching him this way is something else entirely. „Don’t worry. Just go slow.“

„I will“, Wakatoshi promises and kisses him again, so deep and intense that the anticipation almost slips from his mind. That is, until a lube-slick finger glides between his cheeks and rubs at his entrance in slow, patient circles before pressing inside. Out of reflex, he tightens against the intrusion for a second, tries to focus on the well-kissed lips on his instead, biting down on the plump flesh of Wakatoshi’s bottom lip. He feels more than hears the low grumbling growl in Wakatoshi’s chest and relaxes into his touch as he works his way inside.

Wanting to hear more of those sounds, he brings his hand up to run it across his friend’s chest, strokes over his nipple with a calloused thumb, alternating between featherlight touches and drawing small circles with the blunt side of the nail. The soft moans and gasps he gets in response are music to his ears. Breathing heavily, he breaks off the kiss and rests his forehead against his shoulder while Wakatoshi presses in and out, curling his thick digit and adding a second one when he feels him loosen up.

He pants and hums in appreciation as the feeling is slowly turning into pleasure, spreading hot through his body, rolls his hips back and forth to get the most out of those fingers teasing his opening and the friction on his leaking cock. He fumbles for the lube behind Wakatoshi’s back, muttering _don’t stop_ and _yes, there, right there_ when he hits just the right spot, making his mind go blissfully blank for a moment. His whole body feels on fire and his hand trembles when he pries the bottle open and coats his fingers. Quickly, he moves to wrap his hand around Wakatoshi’s straining length and pumps it, spreading the lube, runs his thumb over the blunt head and savors the grunt it elicits. He tries his best to keep a steady rhythm while he jerks his hips to fuck himself on those fingers, slow burning pressure building in his loins as Wakatoshi brushes his prostate again and again. He gives one last squeeze and lets go, wiping his hand absently on his own thigh. „I’m ready.“ His voice is thick with want, but he barely notices as Wakatoshi withdraws his fingers immediately, leaving him biting his lips as his muscles clench around nothing.

„Are you sure?“

He isn’t, not completely, it’s the first time like this, but his patience is running thin. „Yeah.“ He rolls onto his back and looks at his friend: equally worked up, red lips swollen, flush reaching his chest, impossibly hard member bobbing slightly as moves so he’s hovering over him. „Yeah“, he says again with more conviction, licks his lips and breathes. His heart is pounding loudly in his ears when Wakatoshi holds his hips firmly, aligns his cock with his entrance and pushes in slowly, inch by inch, pausing whenever Satori’s face scrunches up in discomfort. He forces himself to relax, to ignore the faint sting, grabs the sheets and closes his eyes. It’s too much with Wakatoshi’s burning gaze on him. He feels full and stretched when his friend finally bottoms out, the faint sting now a burning sensation that brings tears to the corners of his eyes. He wants this, but it’s hard to breathe.

„Satori. Look at me.“ Wakatoshi’s voice sounds much closer than before and he feels gentle lips on his forehead, his nose, his cheeks. When he opens his eyes, he winces at the concern written clearly all over Wakatoshi’s features, so he takes another deep breath and wriggles slightly. „It’s fine“, he assures him and lets go of the sheets with one hand to thread his fingers through his friend’s hair. „Don’t worry. It’s fine.“

Wakatoshi doesn’t look completely convinced but he can see the hunger in those dark eyes and _hell_ , he wants this. „Move“, he tells him, emphatically, and Wakatoshi plants another chaste kiss on his lips, then does as he is told, pulling out slowly and sinking back in, starting at a slow pace. The stingy feeling gradually turns into a pleasurable sensation as he manages to relax more. Shallow thrusts send waves of pleasure up his spine and he gasps, _ah, yeah, like that_ , wraps his arms around broad shoulders and seeks out those lips for another sloppy kiss.

Wakatoshi grabs his legs above the knee and pulls him closer, changing the angle before thrusting back in. Sparks of white-hot pleasure explode when he hits that one spot and Satori forgets to breath for a moment, causing him to stop. „No no no“, he whines, squirms under him and snaps his hips up, searching for that feeling. „Do that _again_.“ It takes two or three deep thrusts and he groans loudly when his friend manages to hit there again. „Fuck yes“, he hisses and surrenders himself to this feeling as Wakatoshi picks up the pace, faster, harder, filling the room with the slapping sound of skin against skin. He digs his nails into those chiseled shoulders, arches into the thrusts, revels in the harsh pants and moans mixing with the hot breaths between them. His mind goes foggy and he feels his orgasm building as the thrusts grow more rapid. He wants it to last longer, wants to draw this moment out to eternity, but he feels Wakatoshi’s muscles also tense and quiver under his hands. The weight on top of him shifts and one calloused hand grips his straining member, begging to be touched. All it takes are a few clumsy strokes and he comes undone, muscles clamping down. Wakatoshi follows shortly after, but he barely registers it, mind blank and whole body tingling. His breath coming in heavy pants and he blinks at the ceiling unseeingly, feeling incredibly lightheaded.

It could be seconds or minutes later when Wakatoshi moves to lie down beside him, softening member slipping from his ass, making him wince with mild discomfort. Wearily, he turns his head to look at him, still overwhelmed by the sensations coating the strange feeling inside of him when he shifts to his side and snuggles closer. His thoughts are still slow and he runs his fingertips across sweaty skin.

„You‘re a natural at everythin‘ huh?“ Apparently, that’s the best his brain can do right now.

Wakatoshi shifts slightly to put an arm around him and pulls him into a more comfortable position, resting his hand on his shoulder, thumb moving in small circles. „I believe I will need more training“, he muses, and Satori looks at him blankly for a moment, takes in the way his lips twitch and an amused sparkle enters his eyes. Huffing, he lets his head fall back against his arm and laughs, feeling more at ease than ever. It might just be the afterglow but maybe life is allowed to feel this good sometimes. He turns his head and looks at Wakatoshi, catches him watching him with warm eyes.

„You’re still my best friend you know?“ It comes out softer than intended and smiles at him, snuggles against his side and pulls the ruffled blanket up a bit.

„I wasn’t aware that could change just because we‘re...“

„Fucking?“, he supplies with an innocent grin.

A slight crease appears between Wakatoshi’s brows and he takes a moment to answer .„…yes, that too. I meant to say, together.“

Satori hums quietly, grin turning into a content smile. „Together... I like that.“

**Author's Note:**

> If you've come this far, thank you so much for reading. Comments, kudos and critique are always much appreciated. Honestly, they make my day. Or find me on twitter @lavendelshampoo and feel free to talk to me. 
> 
> This turned out much longer than expected and I usually don't write smut, so I hope you enjoyed and it wasn't cringy. 
> 
> PS: I‘m sorry, I just gave up on the German „...“ as my docs kept switching back to it every time I closed them. Apologies.
> 
> BIG THANKS again to Mellow for helping me so much with this!!


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